


Inside a Silver Pocket Watch

by kiitos



Category: Horrible Histories
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-02
Updated: 2012-05-02
Packaged: 2017-11-04 17:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiitos/pseuds/kiitos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julius would escape to the skies forever but one tether still grounds him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inside a Silver Pocket Watch

Julius emerges from the stairway up to the zeppelin landing platform and immediately his face morphs into a fond smirk. Vercingetorix is there, of course he is, with his stupid top hat and goggles and stupid waistcoat that fits him far too snugly, perched atop his stupid (absurdly well-crafted and beautiful) bike. It still irks him something awful that Verci built that thing on his own…

And then the infuriating man is holding out a hand and inviting him to join him on that stupid (glorious, utterly stunning) bike. He rolls his eyes for good measure and slides onto it behind him, wrapping his arms around Verci’s skinny waist and scowling when he realises the man has been spending all his time building and not enough time actually taking care of himself.

“You stopped eating Verci.”Julius murmurs matter-of-factly into his ear.

“Oh Juli!” Vercingetorix exclaims loudly as he kicks the bike into life. “Who wants to eat when zer are things to build!”

Julius rolls his eyes and holds on tight to almost nothing as Verci speeds off into the darkness of the city. If it wasn’t for him he wouldn’t keep coming back to this place, he’d rather be in the skies finding new things that way than tinkering around in a tiny little cubby-hole in the centre of a dying city. But Verci likes it here, therefore Julius likes it here and he’ll keep coming back until Vercingetorix realises he can’t save something that’s already dead. Then maybe he’ll go with Julius and they can properly be together in the skies where they belong.

But until then he almost loves Vercingetorix with his stupid hair and stupid hat and stupid attachment to this stupid city and his stupidly utterly sublime bike. Almost.

Verci’s place is run-down and Julius wrinkles his nose when a rat scuttles past the front door which of course is locked with a confusing mess of cogs and springs that unlock with a not unpleasant metallic grind. He follows Verci inside and marvels at all the ways in which the irritating French man has utterly failed at the upkeep of his house in the weeks Julius has been away.

“Verci.” He mutters, flicking dust off a picture frame that he thinks contains a photograph of Verci’s family underneath the centimetre of grime. “This place is disgusting.”

Vercingetorix turns to face him and smiles like he knows that. “Of course Juli, zis city has become worse in your absence, you ‘av to make it look like you don’t live where you live.”

He casually takes Julius’ hand and leads him down the hallway to a door that Julius doesn’t remember from last time he was here, of course once again it slides unlocked with a rumbling crunch of gears. Inside is a flight of stairs downwards and he once again follows Verci into the darkness, hearing the door shut behind him with another satisfying collision of cogs.

“Welcome to my inner sanctum Juli.” Verci announces, removing his tophat and bowing with a flourish. The effect is ruined when Julius notices the scar on his head, extending from just past his hair line down to just above his eyebrow. Verci notices him staring and rolls his eyes with a derisive snort. “Oh no little Verci got ‘urt whilst big Julius wasn’t ‘ere to ‘elp.”

Julius frowns. “Verci, as difficult as it is for you to understand, I care about you and when you get hurt I worry.”

“You worry and care enough to disappear at every opportunity.” Vercingetorix snaps, throwing his hat onto a hook sticking out of the wall before fiddling with his long blond hair, a nervous habit of his and Julius sighs.

“Verci we’ve been through this, this city it’s…there’s nothing here.” When it’s out of his mouth he realises he’s said that spectacularly wrong and flounders to save the situation but the irritable French man is already scowling.

“Nothing? Zer is nothing ‘ere? I am ‘ere Juli!” He stomps over to his workbench in his ridiculous boots and snatches up a box. “I assume you’re not staying long, ‘ere zis is for you.” He thrusts the box at Julius and then stomps off across the workshop to disappear through another door, Julius sighs after him and waits until he’s gone to open the box.

Inside is a silver pocket watch engraved with an intricate pattern across the front, upon opening the cover he gasps when he takes in the dual compass and watch interior. Vercingetorix had to have made it for him specially and here was being massively insensitive. Verci loves this city, he’s probably responsible for building half of it and at least having a hand in designing the other half. Julius sighs as he remembers when he first met the idealistic French man back when it was actually functional as a city, an industrial capital that made poor men rich very quickly. Vercingetorix had turned up with his eyes full of promise and his hands full of plans, one of which was the blue prints for Julius’ rather fine airship the Avaricum. Veringetorix had built for him as a _gift!_ Back when the city actually worked and their relationship wasn’t as weird as was now. They should have been rivals but they somehow never were, they started off with a mutual grudging respect that turned into mutual grudging attraction that happily turned into mutual shagging with no grudges held anywhere at all.

Until the industry stopped and the wheels stopped turning and the chimney’s stopped steaming and Julius had said he was leaving. Vercingetorix had always been determined to stay, to rebuild and keep going but the only thing that he managed to keep going was his relationship with Julius.

Not that Julius bothers about all that, he knows he has Vercingetorix and the Avaricum and his freedom. He just wishes he could have all three at once is all.

“Verci.” He calls. “Verci I’m sorry, it’s beautiful, you’re beautiful.”

He gets no response from the French man and he sighs, he’s been here less than an hour and he’s already messed up…and then Vercingetorix flies into his arms and _kisses_ him with weeks of pent up frustration and longing…he needs to come back more often, he really does.


End file.
